


Outside In

by kee_writestrashh



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Guilt, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 03:13:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14559591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kee_writestrashh/pseuds/kee_writestrashh
Summary: Request: So instead of Sansa, Reader is the Stark daughter sent to marry Ramsay. She hates him and everything he does. Things remain similar, however, reader doesn't run and is there when Ramsay kills Roose (I will leave all that tidbit up to you), anyways, Reader catches Ramsay mourning his father's death in secret. Make it emotional for both Ramsay and Reader, and maybe she has second thought about hating him after seeing this?





	Outside In

**Author's Note:**

> Very influenced by this song: https://youtu.be/7Uaj-JwiS-o

She had hated him. Every part of him. From the moment she had laid eyes on him. He was a murderer, a torturer, a sadist, a crazy man, and worst of all... he was soon to be her husband. (Y/N) of House Stark could not have found herself in a worse situation. At least, she felt that way. And with good reason. She may have been home again, but the Bolton's had made Winterfell anything but her home anymore.

Ramsay had done nothing but torment her. Constantly reminding her that her family was dead. Threatening her with his hounds. And the nights after they were wed... it made her shudder. She didn't understand it. There was no need. If he wasn't so godsdamn aggressive, maybe in time she could have learned to enjoy it. But she could never love him. He was a monster. Even his own father despised him. But maybe someday he would bless her with children. At least they would love her. Or would they also be black and evil too? Would he change his attitude toward her once she was with child? Would he turn to whores and leave her be? She secretly hoped so.

Yet, one day... (Y/N) had found herself jealous at all the women within the walls of this castle. She wasn't even sure why, but had almost ordered all the young maidens to leave. To leave only the old women. That would have been funny. To see Ramsay up in a fit about that. But then he would take it out on her. Yet, that day had proven to take a turn for the worse. Not for her really, but she felt the impact.

Ramsay kept (Y/N) locked away in her room most of the time. But, she didn't mind. It meant no one was tormenting her. She had solace. A peace of mind in her warm room. She only wished she had someone to keep her company. She half wished even Ramsay would visit with her. To be a husband for once.

She had grown tired as of late. Tired of the snide remarks and plotting escape. She didn't even want to escape anymore. Ramsay was too busy lately to do more than visit here every couple days. And that was fine with her.

But everything seemed to change on the day it was announced that Roose Bolton was dead. The official letters said he was poisoned by enemies. But those within these walls knew better. They all knew it must have been Ramsay.

Even still, he had what he could have wanted. He had everything but a son. He came to visit (Y/N) that night. But something was off about him. His mind seemed elsewhere as he forced her to be on top. And it was odd. His grip on her was painful, but it wasn't unpleasant. Not like she was used to. She used him to finally, for the first time, have her own orgasm. This brought Ramsay back to, turning his eyes to her and watching her as she rode out her high. She wasn't even sure he had finished as he gently pushed her off of him. He had gathered up his things and left. And she was back to the cold, loneliness.

The days that followed were odd. He forced her to be at his side. He dined with her, made her sit council, and had even moved her things to his chamber. He was very subdued.

But, still, she hated him. All the misery he had brought her personally, and all the pain his family had brought on her. But she was confused. She kept thinking back on the last night in which they had been intimate. And while intimate wasn't the word, she couldn't help but think on it. He hadn't hurt her. Hadn't tried to force himself on her. Had simply said that she would be on top and please her lord husband. And the way he said it... it was almost in defeat.

She was sure he knew of what she had done. That while he was off to slaughter Stannis Baratheon, she had planned an escape. It had resulted in his lover Myranda's death, thanks to Reek. Or Theon. She wasn't sure what to call him. He was no longer Theon. Not as she had known Theon. However, Reek was a name she wouldn't use. Whatever Theon was, and as much as she hated him for betraying Robb, he did not deserve what it was that Ramsay had turned him into. Death would have been kinder. Yet, maybe she did like that Theon had suffered. How different her life would have been if Robb had never been betrayed. If Robb had come and rescued her from the prison she was in during her time in King's Landing. 

She had not really planned out her escape, but knew that with Ramsay gone, it was her only chance. But, she was not prepared to meet Myranda. And after Myranda met her death, (Y/N) had gotten cold feet. Theon/Reek had tried to convince her to leave, but the horns were being blown. Ramsay was returning. She ran back to her room and hid. Awaiting the blow that would befall her. He had indeed come to visit her hours later, but said nothing of the matter in Myranda's death. 

(Y/N)'s newfound freedom of not being locked away in her room all the time also came with many annoyances. She was constantly watched and followed. She had the inkling that Ramsay still felt as though she may try to make a run for it. But where would she go? And more so, how would she get there? Yes, she knew that her bastard brother was at the Wall. She even heard that he had been made Lord Commander. However, what was for her at the Wall? To be surrounded by once thieves and rapists? She figured she could deal with Ramsay, if it meant that it was only him, and not multiple men assaulting her. That had to count for something, right? She knew Jon would never let something happen to her as long as he was there, but what about when he turned his back? Then what? Kill every man who touched her? That would leave the Wall empty.

No, (Y/N) had resigned to the fact that she was Ramsay's wife, and that it was best if she hung tight. Given what Ramsay was... surely someday he would meet his downfall. Somewhere. Somehow. She could only pray that someday came sooner, rather than later.

Ramsay had cut back on humiliating her, or even being too involved with her. He made sure she was near him, and sometimes would even make her sit and watch while he tortured people. If breaking people could be considered an art, then Ramsay was the master. She often wondered why he bothered to bring her down here? Was it to prove a point? To make her see what could happen to her if she tried anything stupid? Yet, her days of fear were waning. She was a Stark. And Stark's endured whatever was thrown at them. As far as she knew, she was the only wolf left. And even one wolf was better than none. Should she someday conceive a child, they would have just as much wolf's blood as the flayed man on its father's banners. Perhaps the bloodlines would create some kind of savage beast. A deliverance to the people of the North. A force to be reckoned with.

"(Y/N)." Ramsay said rather harshly, causing her to squeak and drop her needle work.

"Y-yes my lord? Please, forgive me. I didn't hear you enter." She said, quickly standing from her stool and giving a curtsy to Ramsay.

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Why are you not with child?" 

She tried not to scoff at his question. Asking her as if she knew the answer. "I do not know, my lord." 

"Should I start beating you for every moon turn that passes and you are still empty?" He asked, arching a brow and putting on that cold smirk.

(Y/N) narrowed her own eyes and gave him the coldest glare she could muster, "I do not believe that is how it works, Lord Bolton."

"I have been informed that the supply of moontea is close to gone. Care to tell me why, (Y/N)?" He said with a cold bite.

"Does it matter what I say, Ramsay? No matter what I say, you will label me a liar. You cast these stones, not taking a moment to think on them. But if you want the truth, it has not been me. Probably some of the whores that run around here that you frequent, instead of being a lord husband and fulfilling his duties to his lady wife. Or maybe the gods do not want to grant such a monster with children of its own. The world has enough of nasty things like you." (Y/N) spat back like venom. 

Ramsay took a step forward, raising his hand. There was no moments warning as he struck the side of her face. The metallic tang of blood coating her tongue as she fell to her knees. But she held her head high. She had been through worse. She brought her hand to her burning cheek, blinking back the tears and swallowing slowly.

"I am taking away your wandering privileges again, my sweet wife. You will learn. In time." He sneered, turning sharply on his heel and slamming the door behind him.

(Y/N) heard the loud turn of the heavy lock. She sighed, wiping her tears furiously. _Fucking bastard!_ She thought savagely, pushing herself from the ground. She snatched up her needle work and slammed it down on the writing desk in the corner. She glanced around the bed chamber. The chamber that had once belonged to her mother and father. The chamber that should have someday belonged to Robb. She sighed again, dropping her shoulders and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

The hours wore on slowly. She was also denied to eat today as well it would seem. She grew more angry and frustrated as her stomach growled needingly. Being caged again was beyond maddening. It was unjust and unfair. _But then... when had the gods ever been fair to you? You had some kind of curse around you, it seemed. Maybe that was why after all these months you were still barren inside._ The only thing that scared her was that Ramsay didn't make threats. He was going to beat her if she was not pregnant soon. He held nothing if he did not have a son. And the longer he went without a son, the easier it would be for the other Northern lords to rise up arms against him. The last of his kind. The last Bolton. 

She had changed into a simple night shift, letting her hair down as the darkness set in. She sat, brushing her hair slowly with the brush her mother had once used on her own hair. At least there were still little things that reminded her of her family. Of happier times. Ramsay may have burned Winterfell, but not everything left. She heard the lock slide back, and didn't even bother to turn to look at Ramsay as he walked in. 

There was no door shutting. No words. No Ramsay. (Y/N), glanced in the mirror to see one of Ramsay's men standing there. Damon, she was sure he was called. Ramsay put him up to the task of watching her and following her around. However, he never bothered her or even spoke to her. He let her do what she wished, and kept his distance. They had a silent understanding that she would not try to run, and he would not force his presence on her. He glanced down the hall before stepping inside. He said nothing, crossing to the wardrobe and pulling out her cloak. She watched him curiously as he held out her cloak to her.

She took it and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"Have you ever seen the torturer torture himself?" Damon asked quietly. He had a rather kind face. (Y/N) was never sure how he was in Ramsay's inner circle. He did not seem anything like Ramsay.

"I don't understand?" She said, looking down at the cloak in her hands.

"And I cannot explain. Put that on and come with me." Damon said, crossing back to the door and waiting on her.

"If Ramsay..." She started but Damon shook his head.

"I need you to see something. Do not worry about Ramsay. Now hurry." Damon prompted.

Curiosity was getting the better of her. She agreed. She threw the cloak on and followed after Damon. She wasn't sure what to expect. Was this one of Ramsay's games? They crept along the halls quietly. She realized they were taking the familiar path to the godswood. What did this place have to do with anything? Ramsay did not believe in the gods. Or at least (Y/N) thought that he didn't. Her bare feet going numb with cold as she followed silently after Damon. After a few minutes of silent walking Damon stopped, motioning her forward. (Y/N) stepped up next to Damon. He nodded past the tree they stood behind.

(Y/N) glanced around the tree and saw Ramsay on his knees before the heart tree. The silence was echoing as she watched Ramsay stare at the weeping face. Then suddenly he let out a roar of frustration, as he stabbed the ground with that horrible knife the Bolton's passed down. Once only the hilt was left Ramsay released the knife and rested his forehead against the trunk of the weeping tree.

"Why did you make me do it? Is this what you wanted? To see me fucking fail at everything? You never even gave me a fucking chance, father! Never once did you think I was ever worth it. All I ever wanted was for you to be proud of me. To remember me as the one to carry on the way of our family. The one not afraid to uphold traditions and Bolton honor. But all you did was label me as a bastard. Even in your death you mock me. The refusal of a son of my own. Why? What did I ever do so wrong?"

(Y/N) watched and listened closely. She wasn't sure what to think. She had never considered Ramsay to have feelings before. Incapable of anything other than the physical abuse to those that were not him. She glanced at Damon remembering he was there. He simply looked past her to Ramsay. She turned her gaze back to Ramsay too. How in this moment he did not look like the man who had left a bruise on her cheek just this morning. But tired and confused and hurting.  

"I was always on the outside. I was never your son. Even when you gave me the Bolton name. You never wanted me to be your heir. Why else would you have remarried? I was just a blemish on you. Never worth your time. All I ever wanted was for you to be proud of me, father. But you never were. You despised me. And now, to get your revenge on me you have set me up. I cannot secure the North. Not even with my wife. Why did you do this? Why did you hate me? I was a loyal son!" 

You heard the tone. How bitter and full of hurt every word was. How he looked even more tired.

"I did not mean to. I just... lost control. I need your council father. I would be ready to listen. Guide me father. Please."

Damon took hold of her (Y/N)'s elbow and brought her back to. She glanced at him. "Time to go."

She wanted to protest. She wanted to stay. She wanted to watch Ramsay's moment of weakness. Was this his way of mourning? Regretting? She wanted to watch him be human. Maybe he wasn't the way he was simply for the fun of it. He was as much a tortured soul as she was. Their abuses had been different. But inside... inside they were both broken and lost.

"Why did you bring me here?" She whispered, looking back at Ramsay before letting her cold, numb feet be led back toward the castle.

"My lady, I will not try to justify anything that Ramsay has done. Nor will I attempt to apologize, because he is not sorry. He isn't. But, maybe in his chaos, he doesn't realize what he does. Or maybe he does. I do not know. But, you need to understand that he is human in there. It may be the tiniest sliver of humanity. The beast has consumed him. But, we all hurt. And his hurt is louder than most." Damon said with a small, sad smile.

(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder again, taking one last glimpse at Ramsay as he wrenched the knife from the earth and buried the blade into the heart tree, pulling down slowly, making the body spout new blood. A new wound. A small reflection to the way they both felt inside.

 

 

> _'Father, have mercy on your son. And always bring me home again however far I've run. Father, grant wisdom for within. So I no longer have to be on the outside looking in.'_

**Author's Note:**

> Requests always open. find me on tumblr @kee-writestrashh


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